


Goner

by quite_probably_lying



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Imprisonment, Other, Witch in the Woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quite_probably_lying/pseuds/quite_probably_lying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been so long since he saw the moon, and in all that time the dripping hasn't stopped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goner

**Author's Note:**

> Started as my Creative Writing homework.
> 
> It's just Lying talking about the well, but just has these three main thoughts on loop that he keeps flicking between. (set in just the well as it started out, with none of his improvments to it.)
> 
> Named after the Twenty One Pilots song I was listening to when I finished it (wrote most of it to Stressed Out), which 21p fans can probably tell due to a certain sentence.)

I used to be free. I could see the sky and stars like everyone. The moon gazed down at me and I would dance under her light until the morning rays chased her back beyond the horizon once more. The sun, the moon, the sky, the stars. I would give all I am to see them again.

I am not alive. I exist but my pitiful days cannot be described as living. Living is when you have a purpose, which is something I don't. There is no reason for me to be here anymore.

Here... I hate it here. Trapped in the dark, with stagnant water pooling around my ankles. The rhythmic dripping is the heartbeat of my home, and how I hate it. The endless noise always reminding me that I'm still here in this well, trapped until the self proclaimed god that trapped me down here lets me go.

I trusted him. Worse, I loved him. He was my best friend, my brother. When the world went to shit, he was there to pick me up and dust me off. Even if I had nothing, he would still be there for me. Like a fool, I blindly played my part as the lamb led to slaughter. I almost wish he had killed me, rather than leaving me to rot here for eternity in this hell hole. It is said revenge is as dish best survey cold, but I will watch him burn in the ashes of his home. He will bet forced to stand by, unable to help as I rip the limbs from his loved one and feed them to the hounds. Hoards of undead will rise at my call and claim what is left. The moon will watch as I dance of his corpse.

It never stops. The endless dripping. It's so hard to hold a thought when the invasive noise keeps taking over in my head. It's so cold down here, I haven't been dry in years, not since my last day on the surface. I used to keep my hair beautiful, but now it isn't worth the effort. The hours I spend washing and detailing it are pointless. I don't know know where the blood comes from, but it is always there, clotting and Knotting my ponytail once again.

If I still had my magic getting out of here would be easy. That was stripped from me too. He took everything. My freedom, my magic, my trust. I am a shell, a pathetic creature of what I once was. I wish I could turn back time, to the good old days, when I was a mere cub curled up by my mother's side. When the world was safe and dry. I don't remember what it's like to feel full. There is no food down here, so I was and always hungry. So very hungry...

One day, I will be free again. I can be warm and dry. I can go back to my forest, leave the mortals to their affairs. One day, I will see the moonlight on my fur again, and dance across the night sky with my mistress.

**Author's Note:**

> Might make this longer at some point... Haven't decided yet.


End file.
